Any Baller or Just Athletes?

Any Baller or Just Athletes?




Teaser from A Rich Man’s Baby By Daaimah S. Poole

Adrienne

I didn’t get pregnant by Derrick, but oh well, on to the next. I wanted to be chillin’ somewhere being a Mrs. Super Bowl or Mrs. All Star with a baby in my stomach and quite possibly a big rock on my left hand. But trying to be wifey takes too long and comes with a prenup. I just wanted somebody’s baby so my child can get a percentage of his income automatically for the next eighteen years.

Over the last few weeks I'd learned a few things. I wasn’t wasting my time with attorneys, doctors, or any man who worked hard for his money. Why? Because they were too attached to it.
Yeah, if I was dating to date, then fine. But I wasn’t dating to date. Okay if a man makes $150,000 a year. Okay, after taxes how much was that? Exactly. Split three ways? That couldn’t finance half the lifestyle I was trying to live. I saw how Derrick was living and what he gave me in a matter of weeks. I’m sorry, I can’t go back to Mr. Ordinary.
I was dating athletes exclusively, because they were all young, in shape, and knew how to have a good time. I’d been hanging out with Angelique, and she gave me so much information. I called her one day to find out when the next event was and she asked me did I want to go to a party in D.C. We went to three clubs in one night, and I never reached in my pocket to get in a club or pay for a drink or a tip. And Angelique knew everybody. She’d dated like ten guys in the NFL and NBA. I went to parties in New York, Virginia, and D.C. with her. She was a little annoying sometimes because she thought guys who didn’t try to talk to her were gay. And she also didn’t have anything else going on for herself. She just knew she looked good and how to pop what was between her legs.
But with or without her, I was on the party circuit. There were so many party websites, chats, and Yahoo! groups. I was on e-mail lists and got texts on the regular.

One of the first things I learned partywise was if you heard about a party on the radio and athlete was the special invited guest, nine times out of ten the player was probably going to come in the front door and leave out the back in twenty-five minutes. Athletes and celebrities didn’t like to hang out with people who would be asking for pictures and autographs. They were tired of that shit.

Two, when you met a player and he told you want he did for a living, you couldn’t act like you had no idea. They could tell you were lying.

Three, a lot of them liked to spend money with no attachments. These men acted like they didn’t want nobody after the money, but, yet and still, they liked to show it off, buying drinks, flashing credit cards, and pulling up in something that cost what most people made in a year. We went to a club in New York and I saw a Maybach’s and Bentley’s pull up and I was like wow they paid. But everybody that is driving something big is not always the major money getter. The rookies are usually the one with the most ice and would be talking loudly, trying to get attention. And so far I liked basketball player status and money, but their groupies were a little bit more hardcore. NFL dudes seemed to be a little more humble, ’cause they don’t get as much airtime. People didn’t really recognize them as much because they always had helmets on when they were on TV. Plus, the football players had shorter careers and they contracts were not guaranteed. If they got hurt, they were done.

Now with all that said, I met a guy named Mark Owens at K Street Lounge who played for the Cleveland Cavaliers. He wasn’t all that cute, but I looked him up on USA Today’s website. His contract was for six million dollars. We could have had two babies together, but the only thing was, I couldn’t even get a conversation in with him. Every time I called, his voicemail was always full. I was really trying to be patient and work myself into his schedule, but it was hard. I’m not stupid. I knew he had a lineup of women. I just wanted to work myself into rotation.